Old Bodega-Return Of A Fallen Hero
by Bodega.0verwatch.Main
Summary: For the Bodega series on the (Triforce Podcast) I give my first work of the fan fiction style so I haven't much experience in this hope you enjoy and please don't be too harsh.
1. Chapter 1

_**OLD BODEGA**_

Spitfire bullets rattled around the golden pans that spat across the deserted wasteland. Bodega rolled out of his crusted bed fill with crisp cake crumbs, his hand instinctively reaching for his Laz Gun, muscle memory for the years of insomniac sleeping and midnight assassins. Secondly his left hand rummaged around the floor of leftover pizza, decomposing cheese melting into the cracked floorboards boards, desperate for the clinging addictive mega moon vape. Aswell of course for one puff would create a moon sized smoke cloud causing his major distraction and escape route. Puff. Erupting like a Gigultan volcanic bloog, it filled the room and the area a radius of a mile round with smoke."Aaaahhhhhh" Bodega's tired sinking bloodshot pupils enlarged past his eyelids into a red furious bloody messy Pultiananic sun. Uh oh; that wasn't his mega vape, that was his Red Eye Fury Giga Angel Dust Vape. Suddenly Bodega shook and his grinning sliver of evil crept up like a nocturnal desplavian wolf rejoicing in the glare of the moonlight. His body reached a fluid moving despite the cracking bones and he knew from this point running was not a choice, he had run for two long now he was desperate for blood. The Red Eye Fury Giga Angel Dust removed any vision he had left in his sunken eyes but enhanced every other sense including his burning desire for blood, and on the slide gave him the biggest high you get could get in the Gargulatarian Galaxy. A footstep from below and his hand slammed through the wooden floor crashing through splinters and splinters of wood gashing his arm muscles. He reached down and ripped with superhuman strength a distressed looking mercenary covered in a red glow of Bodega's nonexistent sight. With one look of the devil Bodega shredded his large canines into the mercenary's soft flesh, his neck. Blood oozed out and Bodega spat out chunks of porky flesh, his mind shuddered at his open horror, but that part of his mind wasn't in control. His devil was possessing his mind. His dark demons. The demons that occupied his insomniac sleeping.

A gurgling cry ran out of the mercenary's open neck, drowning in the sticky blood that covered the gaping large tear. Bodega dropped the body and dropped down after landing his arthritis filled knees onto the barely alive corpse cracking more of their ribs in the process. His nostrils inhaled and he blocked out the strong smell of blood searching for more flesh to shred, he noticed at this point the salivating tongue that desired for more taste of human or Slavian... or even Distangulan which were the more mercenary species. There! He had it the smell of a larger heavier Distangulan wealding, what was it… Ahhhhhh a Gultonic hip fire shredder meant for destroying skyscrapers. Bodega scrambled over sofas and jumped onto the table reaching up and yet again smashing his ripped up muscle shredded hand through the ceiling grabbing onto the Distangulan's ankle. With one swift move his other hand punched into the floorboards snapping the boards; simultaneously his hand clenching the mercenary's ankle yanked down and already with his heaviness and the broken boards the mercenary crashed through the ceiling and his floor. The mercenary landed onto the table and Bodega kneeled one leg on either side of the body that was whimpering in pain. Bodega's two hands grabbed cutlery( four forks and seven knifes) shovelling them into the mercenary's face. Hawainesser sunglasses stared back at Bodega cracked and shattered into pieces. It was better that way and it hid the devastating disfigurement that Bodega had made into a weary battleground of a face.

Bodega ripped the front door of his shanty house in the middle of nowhere to see four nervous men resting against their hover trucks; surprised they shrieked and pulled out there gultaranian MH-68's. Too late. Bodega's hand moved in a blur loading five Laz Gun shots and firing them in quick succesion… Headshot,headshot,headshot, testical shot for the fun of it and then a fifth final headshot. They dropped like flies hitting the ground without a scream, Bodega stood over the bodies and thought to himself in a pondering face. 'Hmmmmmmm well this is pretty flav' he said to no one in particular and spat a heavy smoky blood filled saliva ball. '...Well ...what do I do now partner' swinging his long metal cane between his fingers.

Quickly Bodega hobbled into his house shuffling up the stairs in pain; somehow during the fight he had managed to produce a long gash across his side. His bruised battered body crawled up to his bedroom slash kitchen slash litteraly anything, the rooms downstairs had been torn apart by Flarving spitnadoes which as legend says were created long ago by the spit giant when he first layed his salivary eyes upon such a hideous mortal being. Bodega stared at himself in the mirror and by god that could easily be him at the moment. His quirky smile had cracked into an old whispery thin gash in his face, his muscles still stood out but now it looked more like starvation then being fit and healthy, even his eyes which once shone so bright and full of passion had submitted into a cold grief like state of mourning for the old days of youthful fun. But more pressing matters intervened in the form of a crippling pain that forced him into a slightly leaning position and he had to step back and fall onto his bed. Bodega snapped off a small kerchunk of healing gyshophere and had to pull his right hand from the wound to shove the spitting and agonizing medicine into his system, directly. The pain had now reached reality with, The Red Eye Fury Giga Angel Dust wearing out after being such a strong sedative for the pain before.

Bodega needed to leave and fast, with his disco valante gone he now had to hitch a ride with someone and with no signuts money or even a scratchlingerous in his pockets there was no other choice. He had to go down to the local pub. The 'PORKLINGZ LAZER SHOTTIE2HOTTIE' with its hideous name and even more hideous managers it had become known for only one thing a cheap pint of garfopatov or a mug of scoffee (space coffee).

To be continued...

 _ **The End**_


	2. I think you'll find I'm a Syphomaniac

_**Chapter 2**_

 _ **I think you'll find I'm a Syphomaniac**_

So this is me 19 years old and a professionally acclaimed, by myself, a Syphomaniac. Similar to a pyromaniac I work on the destruction of things and buildings, and find great pleasure in the assured devastation of things people are fond of. Today you would find me round the back of the dusty cracked bad side of town behind the well known and well hated partly for its terrible name 'PORKLINGZ LAZER SHOTTIE2HOTTIE'. And run by its even worse bar workers 'Spross','Sprott' and 'Spithy'. I hated it. But weirdly and contradictly I seemed to love its arches and crappy rusty slick board walls, it's badly designed chairs made for you to never reach actual comfort. I loved the fact that I could destroy it. My trembling hands from excitement placed the small charges against the walls brushing away the dust and corny posters. The Sypho charges worked like small explosions creating Sypho gas that moves like an airborne water disintegrating everything in its path. It spreads out evenly and would, if everything worked to plan, disintegrate all of the half already broken down building. I stepped back 10 feet ready to flick the switch all charges pressed towards the wall. In my head a countdown started. 10. Clammy hands sweating I heard the familiar gruff voices inside. 9. The clutter of odd machinery splitting out various suspicious liquids some may call alcohol, was heard from inside the den of thieves. 8. Sweat dripped from my forehead. 7. I listened to the thugs inside and heard their conversations murmuring and blending with each others about the people they had killed, soon I would be on that list of muderers could I have that blood on my hands? 6. A large shadow drooped over me and I could feel his presence as strongly as the feeling of wanting to press the trigger in my hand.

5\. He stared deeply into me like he could see my weak pathetic soul, and he chuckled at my sadness as his clunky boots stepped past me and reached for the back door. 4. My voice picked up trying to warn him of the fact I was a Syphomaniac and that stepping into this building would be certain death. 3. He simply turned to face me and said calmly "I know, but I got business to do", his hand pulled the handle and his shadowy bulky body strided into the dingy den. 2. This was it then, I heard his footsteps until they were inaudible because of the background noise, I leaned against the wall of the next building and clenched the detonator, ready to bow it up. 1. I gulped down the fear and pulled the detonator close to my chest, "Well Flarv it" one tensing of my finger and it was done I waited a second scared it didn't work. Then suddenly I was blown back by the power as the explosions ripped a hole in the space time continuum one by one. Black areas like an infection grew along the walls and I knew inside the smoky black substance would of started to seek into the room itself. Sypho gas ripps into a vaccum of nothing and sucks everything it touches into this, but it was on a timer in five minutes it will dissapear and the area would just be filled with random gaps of anything. The sudden screams would end eventually but some part of me kept me rooted to the spot out of danger but listening to it go on felt good. A deep feeling of power rolled off me like waves of water and pride off a professional surfer… Afterall I was a professional Syphomaniac.

Bodega rolled into the wooden doors smacking them open and slamming them closed, making a scene at the very least. All eyes drew to him and on that second he recorded every one of their facial expressions, luckily he could tell no one recognised or even looked remotely surprised at seeing him. It wasn't like the old days where everyone saw his face and either rejoyced his name or they pulled out their spacetoniam bazookaspa's out and fired as fast as they could before being shot to bits with the old classic Laz gun. Luckily that was still around unlike his treasured Disco Valante that had now been gone for a while. Bodega was equipped into his old but worn out bounty hunting suit, equipped with gadgets that had broken and rusted out long ago bit still was there to fit the part. And of course he hung his jet pack on his back, but even more he wore no cape… After all who would be such an idiot to wear something that could get burned up in the exaust. His eyes scanned the room to find the one person not looking at him, his body from behind looked like a younger version of bodega but most importantly he was wearing a stupid god Flarving cape. Bodega lunged through the crowd to the bar ignoring the jaw dropped expression on the bartender Sprott as the door behind Bodega fell of it's hinges.

"Vwhat didz you juzt do?"

His mind boggled face was equally represented on the equally as stupid other two.

"Yaarghh what was that dude." The other one named Spross said.

"Ehhh it was a crappy door now shut ur trap u two" Spithy obviously the cleverer of the three of them and the one that didn't care about any of it.

Bodega sat on the seat (well tried to but they seemed impossible to sit on without slipping off) next to the strange dark clothed 'cape' man. "I'll have what he's having" Bodega spat out at the bartender Sprott, who complied and then hesitated.

"Vummmmm sir vwe dontz have any mealgrub beer left, wouldz youz likez anysings velse."

Bodega stared deeply into the scrawny child like frame of that creature and quickly without a word even said he went to look harder round the back.

"No sir sorryz wez definetzly dontz have any mealgrub left."

"I'll have a scoffee then I grant it will be on the house because of your lack of necessary skill or friendliness."

"Vyess Sir"

Bodega had grown addicted to a scoffee a day and now it felt weird when one wasn't their in his life, after all he needed to get the taste of flesh out of his mouth. "So why the cape partner?" Bodega eagerly pushed for a conversation that could get him a free ride to any where out of this stink hole of a planetoid.

"Well obviously because it looks good and it conceals my weapons" the stranger answered back instantly.

"Yeah but don't you think it's a little stupid"

'No" the comment seemed to hurt his pride a little so Bodega pushed further.

"I mean everyone knows a man with a cape is trying to hide his weapons so is it not just stupid"

"Now that's highly irregular and anyway where did you get that jacket and those cowboy boots westernado."

Bodega took a step back it was one thing to insult Bodega but to insult his clothes was on another level.

"I could ask you the same about your overused junk cowboy hat… Looks as if a five year old made it… Wait no a five year old would make better."

The stranger winced at this and his face drew closer and the venomous fury could be seen from both men now.

"Well maybe you need a cape to hide that dreadful rusty revolver there, looks like something I left in the toilet this morning"

Oh now there was a definite gunfight underway there was only one person in all the galaxies that ever insulted Bodega's Laz gun and lived to tell the tale, all the others had gunshots on their head.

Suddenly both men flicked their guns and pushed out into the others soft neck tissue."So how's this going to end"

"Well you insulted my taste in a cape"

"You insulted my precious Laz gun"

"Wait, did you say Laz gun"

"Yup"

"Does that mean you are... Bodega"

Bodega turned and looked him dead in the eyes.

"No… That would be utterly ridiculous, wouldn't it?"

"I guess so"

"Vuuuuummmm could youz pleaze stop vthis now"

"No" both Bodega and the stranger answered in unison.

"You heard them they wouldn't stop if you put 40 rounds of lead in them. Each! Enough is enough frazzle the room. Sprott!" Spithy yelled from the back room occasionally called a kitchen but could easily be called a trash disposal room. Sprott clocked a button under the desk and suddenly a static 'frazzling' sound pierced everyone's ears and stunned the entire room. People dropped to the floor but the two men in stalemate clenched onto their dignity and fought in pain and silence gripping their guns tightly staring venom into each others eyes and spitting hell at each other. "Click" both guns fired but without a sound and without blood.

"The frazzler disables all technology of any type in this small area mate so there's going to be no squabbling about, apart from a good old fisticuff showdown if necessary" Spross chuckled to himself.

"Well then that's how it's gonna end then… Right?" The stranger replied staring at Bodega deeply while his body filled with adrenaline, ready for an inevitable punch up.

Bodega's mind raced a little, after all he wasn't in any position for any phisical exercise let alone a fight, he could take his Red Eye Fury Giga Angel Dust but after this morning it still made him sick to the thought. Bodega was just about to politely refuse when suddenly a figure who could only be described as a ghostly pultaniac dark bull emerged from the shadows. Muscles ripped out like daggers from his large wrentacician trenchcoat and his jagged jawline stuck out like a sore thumb in the room. Hands gripped white and a gaze that froze the very room into oblivion he marched through like royalty, people cowered out of his way like sheep from a desplavian wolf.

"...Bodega" He grunted with a wicked hatred like when generations of hate grows into tradition.

Bodega stared at his face and his eyes sagged into a droopy red.

"Marv… I didn't mean to… It wasn… It wasn't mean to happen. I didn't mean to let him die." Bodega's face sank into a memory of darkness and depression, was it just him or did his scars seem to burn in the memory of it all.


End file.
